Remember
by woolysox123
Summary: Lukas Bondevik is involved in a violent car crash which steals his memory, his freedom of movement, his personality and his future. Emil Steilsson fights to keep him in hospital, but at the same time struggles to accept this new brother of his. Lukas is trying to escape the past he doesn't know in order to move on with the future, but Emil drags him down. No pairings.
1. Chapter 1: Not the Same

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. If I did, I wouldn't be writing fanfiction for it.  
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><p>Prologue~<p>

Emil Steilsson could remember. He could remember every moment, every heartbeat, every angry word that he shared with his brother that day. He could remember running outside to tell him that it was raining too hard, that he would be mad to try and drive in this weather!

Emil Steilsson could remember. He could remember Lukas jumping into his car, his best friend hopping in beside him, the two of them waving goodbye as they rumbled out the drive. He could remember Mathias, in the back, calling from the window, "Oh, you worry too much, Emmie! We're just buying a couple of beers!"

Emil Steilsson could remember, clear as day, what it sounded like when the police knocked on his door to tell him the horrible news, news which would implant itself in the back of his mind forever after. He could remember hearing his own heart shatter in his ears, and his mind start to scream at him silently. He could remember bursting into tears, running up to his room, never wanting to come out again.

Emil Steilsson could remember. He could remember Mathias coming into his room, apologizing to him for what had happened, and then being chucked out of the room and, soon after, out of the house. He could remember Tino coming upstairs that afternoon in a fruitless attempt to comfort him, muttering promises him that it would be alright, they would even be able to go and visit soon, that everything would go back to normal... and he could remember how plain those lies were, and how awful Tino was at hiding it.

Lukas Bondevik, on the other hand, couldn't remember. He didn't know a thing about that day. He didn't remember his brother's face, how it felt to drive on the road, nor how it felt to have one of your tyres suddenly slip. He didn't - couldn't - remember what it sounded like to have your best friend scream in terror, and that shot of adrenaline that coursed through his veins as he struggled to keep a hold on the wheel.

But he could remember one thing - one thing past those hospital walls that had become the only home he had ever known. He could remember a bus, zooming towards him as his van skidded off their side of the road, and then hitting his forehead against something hard. Then... Utter blackness, a void that felt as empty as death. It was this memory haunted him, for the whole two weeks of what he now considered to be his 'life.' It reminded him that he used to be someone once, not just Patient 120; that he used to know the people that came into his hospital room and sobbed at his bedside for an unfathomable reason. It was a reminder, and seeing as he could remember nothing, it almost seemed to go against his very way of being. It hurt him too much, made him feel guilty for not knowing anything from before.

Emil Steilsson could remember. Lukas Bondevik could not. Only one thing separated them, but yet that was enough to split a chasm of hell between them.

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><p><em>It was a sunny day outside the cubical window of room 92, and a perfect picture of summer; the wind was blowing sweet, sickly scents through the open gap, the warmth in the room was at just the right temperature so that it wasn't uncomfortable, and the clouds that were skidding across the sky were clearly visible from the glass.<br>_

_The beauty being shown to one man, and one man alone; Lukas Bondevik, who, at last, had a room all to himself. He didn't need to share it with anybody, nor did he have to have any more 'visits' from people he didn't know but professed to be friends of his; for the first time in his whole two weeks of life, he was completely free to do what he wanted, when he wanted. With a __content __sigh, he rolled over in his bedclothes and stretched out his feet to the floor. This was his day. He could do whatever he wanted at last. Finally.  
><em>

_He had just taken a couple of steps - slow and shaky, but at least he was unaided - towards the cubical door when a sharp voice behind him killed his plans stone dead._

_"Wake up, Bondevik! You have a visitor!"_

_"But I'm already awake," he replied with a groan, turning around to face his nurse. "I want to be alone for a moment!"  
><em>

_The voice cut straight through him mid-sentence, and spoke over the top of him.  
><em>

_"Bondevik, wake up right now!"_

_"Bondevik!"_

"Bondevik!"

Lukas woke up with a start, his eyes flying open and almost jumping off his bed before remembering the casts that wrapped around his legs and kept him from walking.

"What is it?" he groaned, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. It was a wonder he slept as long as he had: the foreigner he shared his room with had his siblings visiting him again and they were all talking far too loud; it was raining heavily outside so that Lukas couldn't tell what time of the day it was (but, seeing as there was a steaming pile of toast at the table by his bed he supposed it must've been around noon), and the occasional thunderclap could be heard as the wind battered against the window frame. It was the perfect day for sleeping in, in his opinion, and he'd been having such a nice dream... But there was nothing he could do about that, he reflected sadly. His nurse started talking again.

"Your brother's coming today - fancy that!" she said, shoving some of the toast into his hands, "And that nice Mr. Vainamoinen is coming again too! You liked him when he visited on Sunday, didn't you?"

_No,_ thought Lukas darkly. _I thought he was vile._ To him, the other had just been some stranger who had wondered in, blathered on and on to him about his personal life for a while and then left, without Lukas being any the wiser to his actual identity. And concerning that 'brother' that was tagging along... Lukas didn't like the sound of him at all. He hadn't met his brother thus far, and he most certainly _wasn't _prepared for yet another emotional breakdown by his bedside. He'd had enough of them already; he just wanted everybody to go away and let him live his new life without it being so tainted by the old.

With a submissive sigh, he muttered, "Sure, fine. Bring them in," and started methodically chewing the food. In his opinion, the hospital food wasn't the greatest; this man he could legitimately consider a friend ('Mathias,' as he called himself), had once brought to him some warm, golden and bubbly drink called 'beer,' and after Lukas tried that (and this pastry called 'pizza'), he found he never wanted to stomach bland hospital again for as long as he lived.

Unsurprisingly, the hospital bread tasted like cardboard, so, to help him keep his mind off it, he let his eyes wander over to his roommate's family.

They were all extremely animated, none in the least upset (with the exception of this one black-haired fellow, but then he always looked depressed). There were four in all, if one didn't count the patient, all of various ages - only one girl though, who, through a short unwanted conversation, he had learned was his roommate's little sister. Although Lukas hated the noise and bustle that they all brought to the room, he had to admit he was slightly jealous of them. They all seemed so happy and joyful and _alive _(with the before made exception), it made him resent his own 'family' even more.

And with good reason; the nurse returned, and tailing behind her was a fairly forlorn looking person, accompanied by Tino (who never looked 'forlorn,' not even at a funeral). Sending him a brief glance, the nurse indicated at his roommate's family with her thumb, telling them to leave. With a brief farewell, they were gone, and the curtains were tugged around Lukas' bed.

_I hate it when she does that, _he thought, and turned his face to the newcomers.

"Hello," Lukas said, with a brief nod.

"Hey..." replied the other, and sat down on the bedside chair. Lukas took a moment to survey him; the boy (only a couple of years younger) didn't look much like him, with his hair being a few shades too light and his figure being far too slim. His face was angular and his eyes were a rich violet, the whites a bit puffy. _He's been crying, _he realized, internally groaning. He would be difficult to cope with then, if he was still sad.

Tino stood on the other side of the bed, and leaned over so that his face was just a little too close for comfort. "Lukas! I've brought Emil with me today, like I promised!"

Emil gave Lukas a small, trembling smile, which looked like it could break at any moment. The latter returned it, holding out a hand for him to shake. Emil stared at it for a moment in surprise, before taking it.

_I guess I didn't do that before, _thought Lukas. _That must upset __him._

"I'll leave you two alone then," said Tino, pulling the curtains apart. "You'll be fine." This final part was addressed to Emil, and the latter seemed grateful for it. Tino flashed them both a final smile before drawing the drapes shut, leaving the two brothers alone.

"I went to town with Mr. Puffin yesterday," said Emil, his hand reaching up to grip the side of the bed. "He wouldn't shut up until I bought something for you. I spent tons on getting a chess board for you, so I hope you like it." He paused for a moment, tightening his grip until his knuckles went white. "You used to love playing chess with me. Do you remember that, Lukas?"

Lukas shook his head, and Emil's heart-broken expression made him feel a little guilty for a moment. This is why he hated visitors (that is, beside the fact that they almost always seemed like they were viewing his corpse instead of wanting to talk to him whenever they came); they kept trying to remind him of things, and then made him feel guilty for not knowing afterwards. Not wanting to fall prey to this trap again, he put his mind back on the present and decided to try and patch up the situation.

"I guess... you could try teach me sometime," he said, and, to his relief, Emil replied with a quiet consent. They both sat in silence after that, so that Lukas could practically feel the time whittling away around him, and after what felt like an eternity of silence the nurse returned and told Emil that it was time for him to leave. The boy was strangely silent in his departure, only waving to bid his brother any sort of farewell at all.

Lukas wasn't exceptionally sad to see him go. Now, at last, he could have some peace and quiet as he tried to get back to sleep.

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><p>Emil walked out of Room 92, flopping down beside Tino who had been waiting on the bench outside.<p>

"So? How did it go?" asked the latter, his eyes bright and excited. However, this look disintegrated when he realized that it did not go well at all. Emil's face was downcast, and he looked like he was about to burst into tears at any moment. Briefly, Tino wondered if he should ask what was wrong, but then he stopped himself. Knowing Emil, he'd tell him without prompting if he wanted to. If he didn't, Tino wouldn't be told whether he asked or not. Fortunately, this was one of those times when Emil was in a sharing type of mood.

"Tino," he began, slouching and rubbing his hands, "I knew that he wouldn't be exactly the same, but he's so... different..."

Tino gave him a comforting smile. "I'm sure it's only temporary, don't worry! This happens a lot, it's nothing the doctor's can't handle."

"Yeah," said Emil, turning his face away before he started to cry out of disappointment and loss. "But... What if they can't? What if my brother died in that car? Because I swear to god that man in there is_ not_ my brother."

"It's not that bad," said Tino, patting his back. "I'm sure you'll get used to him eventually."

"I don't want to get used to him," replied Emil icily. "I just want my brother back."

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><p><strong>I actually started this back at the beginning of Januar<strong>**y, but wasn't able to finish it until now. Do you ever get that kind of writer's block where you can try to write but the words just refuse to flow? Yeah, I got that and I got it hard. But still, I hope it reads okay.**

**Thank you very much for reading! Please review, I love them, and criticism is my best friend.**

**~woolysox123**


	2. Chapter 2: A Visitor

**Disclaimer: I own Hetalia and McDonald's... in my dreams.  
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><p>Tino Vainamoinen had a fairly normal house, considering his social and financial status. It was the left house in a semi-detached pair, with a garage on the unjoined side and a small garden out the front, separated from his neighbours by a low brick wall. The garden had a small patch for growing vegetables (although these were often stolen by a desperate man in the next house, who, according to the local gossip, had been released from prison only a year ago) and a short gravel path: altogether, a good, respectable home that its owner was quite proud of.<p>

There were three residents living there (seven, if you counted the fish): Tino, Emil and Lukas, the latter two having lived with him since he'd adopted them when the eldest was only seven years old. At that time, he'd also had a husband, although they weren't yet legally married - however, said man was forced to move out to the city in order to find work, leaving Tino to look after them both on his own.

Hence, he made the two of them do the basic household chores for him, while he went out and worked to make a living; unfortunately, this routine had to change when Emil dropped out of school to get a job at a fast-food restaurant. At that point, all the chores were dumped on Lukas until the time of the accident - now, Emil was back doing both.

It was a week and two days following Emil's first visit to his sick brother, and he hadn't gone again. The event had given him nightmares long after he left, so Tino wouldn't let him go even if he wanted to. On that particular day, however, he didn't even have a chance. As he wouldn't have to go to work for a couple of days, Tino sent him out with the last of the money on their weekly shopping trip (reminding him priorly to be very careful around the crazy person next door).

He was just returning round the corner of their garden when a voice from the garden to their left stopped him in his tracks.

"Ah, it is a good morning, yes?"

Emil pivoted on his heel and hugged his bagged stuffed puffin closely to his chest as he realised that he was the one being spoken to. "Uh... yes, it is... Who are you?"

"You may call me Braginsky-" began the man, and Emil felt himself freeze up. As a defense, he tried his hardest to zone himself out; he'd never really been one for social interactions (despite the fact he'd desperately tried to make friends as a boy), and that had made him introverted, almost misanthropic, as he grew up. He didn't like speaking to people outside of his own social circle, and as a consequence, he was severely lacking in social skills and couldn't deal with strangers.

"What is wrong? Are you sick?" asked the stranger, and Emil almost jumped out of his skin.

"No, no... I've just... got to get home," he said, and marched resolutely over to the front door.

Emil hammered on the door of his house, although it was a hundred times more difficult to lift up his arms than normal because of the pile of groceries attached to them. The edges of the plastic handles were digging into the sleeves of his jacket, and then the skin underneath; Tino had, through no fault of his own, made him go out and buy far more than his thin frame could handle.

Oblivious to his discomfort, his neighbour launched himself into a lengthy introduction. It was a blessed relief when the door was finally opened for him and he could force himself through.

"Shut it, quick," he hissed through his teeth to Tino, who was waving absentmindedly the man behind him.

"Why? Look, that funny man next door is-" Tino began, but Emil slammed the door shut with his foot before he could say another word.

"I'm sure he is, would you mind helping me with the groceries?"

As usual, the kitchen was clean and spotless; Tino worked like a house-wife while Emil was at work and couldn't do the chores, and, although he would never admit it, even enjoyed doing so. Emil never worried about him; he was much too self-absorbed for that.

"So, how was work yesterday?" asked Tino as the two of them started unloading bags and stacking everything away. For an answer his charge lifted up a thumb; _all went well._ "Did you get that promotion you wanted?" To this, the thumb went down. Tino gave a little sigh. It was obvious Emil wasn't in a talkative mood today; they hadn't had a casual conversation the day before, either. He'd isolated himself ever since the accident, and there had only been a couple of times when Emil was open about anything.

Emil stayed downstairs in the living room and the kitchen for the rest of the day, and retired to his room for the evening. He spent an hour or so on the internet before falling asleep.

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><p>Some time around midnight, Emil was woken up by a steady tap-tapping at his window. At first, he presumed it was a tree - as his bedroom was on the side the neighbouring house wasn't - but that was when he suddenly remembered:<em> I don't have a tree outside of my window.<em> So, presuming the worst, he decided the most logical course of action would be to see what had awoken him - for the tapping continued, erratic and sharp. With an exasperated sigh, he pulled himself up from his bed and made his way to the window.

When he opened it, he looked down and saw a tall, shadowy figure standing staunch on the cobbles below. "Who the hell are-" he started, but then was stopped by a mouthful of small, shiny pebbles.

"What the hell?!" he spat, gravel falling out of his mouth. He leaned forward on the window sill as far as he could go, the cool night air biting into his skin and musty pre-rain scented air ruffling up his hair. "That hurt!"

A loud laugh came in reply, followed by a guffaw of "Weakling!"

"Mathias..." Emil murmured, and then said louder, "I don't want you here. Get away from this house at once before I call Tino!"

There was a long pause, and Emil thought he could hear the older man swearing quietly. This was the first time he'd returned since Emil kicked him out; the latter didn't suspect him to be so bold as to even think about coming back again. After all, if not for him, Lukas would still be here.

"You know..." said Mathias, quieter than before, "I only came to help you out, Emmie. I thought you might be a little down. Maybe we could go to McDon-"

He was interrupted by Emil slamming the window shut, the glass shivering in its panes.

He could still hear him whining outside. "_Aw, come on! What does a man have to do to apologize?! It wasn't my damn fault! Open up, I want to-"_

Emil crumpled onto his bed and covered his ears with his pillow. He didn't want to hear him any more; knowing Mathias, he'd probably drag him out to a liquor store, get him drunk and wouldn't drop him off back home until three o'clock in the morning. _Apologize, _indeed! It took a little more than an apology when you'd practically killed someone.

_He could, like, pay off the house, _he thought, drawing his stuffed puffin under the pillow with him. _What do you think?_

_Driving's license! _the soft toy's voice said inside his head. Emil gave it a little smile and tucked it under his chin.

_That's enough, Puffin, _he said.

_Now you're just being silly._

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><p>The next morning was a chilly one. Tino's boots left little bubbly imprints on the wet gravel as he went out to check the mail, knowing full well that Emil was still asleep and wouldn't get up until eight. If not, he'd have sent him out to do it. It was supposed to be one of Emil's jobs, after all.<p>

The wood of the letter box was swollen and stiff with water, so Tino had to give it a good tug to get it open. A couple of letters lazily slid into his awaiting palm and he snatched them up before they hit the ground.

"Birthday card... This one's for Emil..." he whispered to himself as he walked back, flicking through them all with his eyes half shut. "Paycheck... Spam...  
>...Oh."<p>

He was at the table when Emil finally came down, a tattered envelope leaning against his cereal bowl and a crispy, official looking document in his hand. Two fingers were placed upon his temples, and he looked exceedingly worried.

"Emil, dear," he said, summoning at him with an index finger. The latter stood behind him and peered over his shoulder. "Here, look at this. It's from the Health Board."

Emil tugged it from his fingers and lent against Tino's chair, his eyes darting side to side as he took it in.

When he'd finished, Emil's jaw dropped open in dismay. "They're asking for _$34,000?_" he gasped.

"That's just for this month," answered Tino, his finger tapping against the table. "But still, it's fair. It includes nursing costs, food, the room, the-"

"I get the picture," spat Emil, practically collapsing into his chair. "And this'll go up monthly?" God, they were going to be in more debt than the American Congress.

"It's alright, Emil," Tino said, rubbing his back (although his hands were shaking). "We'll get through it somehow, right?"

For once, Emil wasn't glad about Tino's near eternal optimism. Even if he got himself a real job, they would never be able to pay this off. Ever. Rubbing his temples with the paper screwed into a wad with his fist, he fought back tears. _Damn Lukas and his damn accident._

"I could always ask Mathias to help," Tino offered hesitantly. "He'd be more than happy to."

Emil shook his head; he didn't want Mathias to have _anything _to do with this. It was his fault anyway.

"No, no. I'll just work extra hard," he said through the paper. "Don't worry about it. I've got it all under control."

He was lying to both himself and his foster father.

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><p>Lukas stretched his arms above his head, yawning like a little tiger. It was early in the morning, and somewhat warm; his room-mate was fast asleep, and for once, he almost felt happy. It was sunny, warm, quiet, his legs weren't hurting, and there weren't any nurses bothering him. Why, it was the perfect morning. With a lazy groan he turned his head over to one side, trying to remember the dream he'd had the night before.<p>

All he could remember was that it had been something about food. To be exact, lots of food, small and twisty and sweet, with a faint smell of strawberry. He could remember a small, plump faced boy stuffing it into his mouth like he couldn't fit enough in and chewing furiously, and then seeing himself next to him; only his legs weren't bandaged, and he was wearing something plush and velvet instead of scratchy hospital clothes. Lukas smiled to himself and bit his tongue. All in all, it'd been a good dream.

It was sad he couldn't get back into it.

His breakfast that morning was compromised of salad, honey and bread and a small cup of kiwi juice. He couldn't help but wonder who'd been promoted to cause this change in diet. Whoever it was, he hoped they were there to stay. He was just starting to pick the tomatoes out of his salad when a nurse poked her head in through the door.

"Good day, Lukas. You've got a visitor," she told him, smiling - she was new to the job, so probably didn't know not to act too damn cheery around him.

"Oh, great," he replied, his good mood slowly oozing out of him. "Who is it?"

"He said his name was Mathias Kohler," she replied. At this, Lukas sat up. He didn't dislike Mathias.

"Okay, let him in."

The door slammed against the wall as the huge Dane walked in, draped in a huge coat that dropped down around his ankles. The nurse was following close behind. "Lukas!" he greeted cheerily, waving.

"Mathias," he replied with a smile. From the other wall he could hear his roommate groan quietly, and then muttering flatly, "Man, can't you like, shut up?" before rolling over and falling back to sleep.

Mathias poked his tongue out at him, and sat down next to Lukas' bed. The nurse tutted and started to draw the curtains, before Lucas put up a hand to stop her. "No, don't," he said. "I like them open."

When the nurse had left the room, Mathias grinned and leaned over the side of the bed as far as he could go without falling off the chair.

"So, I managed to get a couple more drinks," he whispered, a hand traveling into his coat and pulling out a small can of beer. Well, that explained the coat; alcohol wasn't allowed inside the hospital, of course, and he had obviously wanted to hide it somewhere.

"To you," he said, holding up his own can and clinking it against Lukas'.

"To you," Lukas echoed, lifting his and downing it. They sat like that in silence for a moment, drinking; however, Mathias wasn't one to suffer silence for too long, and so broke it by stamping his foot hard against the ground.

"So, how you holding up?" he asked (and Lucas highly suspected he said it only to fill in the silence alternate to actually caring about his condition).

"Decently," he replied nonetheless, setting the half-downed can on the tray next to his bed. "It's been fairly quiet, and his-" he pointed at his roommate, "-his family haven't made any unexpected appearances. All in all, pretty good."

"I visited your brother yesterday," said Mathias, not indicating that he'd even bothered to listen, "He's still pretty pissed off at me. Geez, you'd think I'd killed a guy."

"Is he often like that?" Lukas returned thoughtfully. "As in, upset?"

Mathias lent back in his chair, huffing as the small seat creaked under his weight. Truly, he wasn't completely sure how to answer; he hadn't really payed attention until recently. So, with a shrug, he said, "Yeah, I guess so. Real boring, ya know? Kinda loner-ish, depressed..."

"Yeah, yeah, I get the picture. So, a loner type, then?"

Mathias remained in the room for another five minutes or so, making small talk and randomly shouting things as he saw fit. Lukas didn't mind so much as he had when he'd first met him a month or so ago, growing more used to Mathias' sanguine spontaneity. He was his most frequent visitor, after all; his brother hadn't visited him for ages (to his relief) and neither had Tino, presumably because he wouldn't come again without the former. Others of whose names he could barely remember had only seen him once or twice, for maybe a few minutes at a time. All in all, he'd had a fairly relaxing week.

Excepting, of course, Mathias. He'd been popping in every couple of days or so, with either a new story to tell and perhaps some drinks or even at one point that delicious pastry pizza, so that Lukas ended up truly looking forward to his visits.

As far as the nurses were concerned, it was progress, to his roommate it was bad news, but to him it was another delicate step towards the ideal dream of _Independence._

With a sigh, Lukas relaxed back onto his pillows. "You'd better get going before the nurses come in," he muttered, eyes wondering over to the empty cans of beer.

"Aw, does Lukas not want me anymore?" asked Mathias mockingly, sticking out his bottom lip. "I'm hurt!"

Lukas chuckled quietly, moving his gaze to his bandaged leg. "You should be. No, I'm just worried that if they catch you in here with those drinks you'll never be allowed back in here again."

"And now he's worried about me," Mathias cooed. "You're so cute, you know that?"

"Gee, thanks," Lukas replied with a grin. "But I'm being serious now, get out."

Matthias tutted, shaking his head in feigned injury. However, from his face you could tell he was extremely pleased with himself. Heaving himself out of his chair, he shoved the two beer cans into his inner pockets and headed towards the door.

"Beware; Tino's thinking about making another visit," he said with a wink.

"Thanks for the heads up," Lukas returned, nodding.

Mathias finally left, and Lukas let out a long breath. He hadn't realised it while he was there, but he was starting to feel tired again. With a yawn, he rolled his head over on the pillow.

A quiet fumbling of clothes announced that his roommate was sitting up. "Was that, like, beer you were drinking?" he asked, sounding like he couldn't really care less.

"No," Lukas replied flippantly. His pillow was irritatingly warm, and he couldn't turn it around.

"If you say so," the other muttered, and for a while, the room became completely silent bar the twittering of the birds outside of the window. The silence was so totally serene that Lukas fell asleep.

When he opened his eyes, he saw that the plump kid from his dream before, sitting on a short grassy flat with yet more of the strawberry-smelling food in his hands. Only this time he wasn't eating it, but tentatively offering it out to Lukas as if begging him to eat it.

Lukas accepted wordlessly, feeling as if it was his duty to to say yes, and that 'no' was simply out of the question. The boy started to shove the food in his mouth, and Lukas ate it diligently; but then, as the boy kept on stuffing in more and more, Lukas started to feel that his jaw was going to snap under the pressure. However, he didn't feel in the least scared but instead a little sorry, almost as if he pitied the boy for having too much.

But that was when he felt a tendon snap.

He flew back suddenly, his jaw pulsing with a sharp, fiery agony. He desperately tried to spit the sweets out, but when he found his couldn't, he forced himself to be calm and swallowed hard. It hurt for so much to go down his throat at once, but his mind was instead focused on his jaw. He staggered to the side, rubbing it and trying to keep it in a position where it didn't hurt so much.

When he looked back at the boy, he saw that he was looking at him with a face of pure disappointment. He then pointed behind him. Lukas turned around, and suddenly felt a terrible jolt and vibrations like nails on chalkboard pulling him downwards. The floor fell from underneath him, and he tumbled, fingers grabbing the air and his feet scrabbling against nothing. The boy sat above him on the edge, watching him fall; he called out, wildly, begging for help, but the boy turned away. A moment later, he woke up, and blinked himself awake.

"What was that?" he said to himself, feeling shaken but refusing to show it. "It almost tasted like... licorice."

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><p><strong>I'm so sorry. So, so sorry. This took me way too long. This year's been hectic for me and I've tried to update as fast as I possibly could. I really can't apologize enough. This won't happen again.<br>**

**Thank you so much to everyone who's followed, favourited or reviewed this story! I've appreciated it so much.**

**~woolysox123**


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